[verse 1: j. cole] and you know it don’t stop grindin round that clock masterminding my second alb*m my first alb*m just dropped scored a touchdown on my first down n*gg*s thought i was gon’ flop see i hustle like my momma but i look just like my pops and we still duckin cops ride around and take shots hennessy for my enemies n*gg*s know i’m takin they spot cause that score up on the play clock show just how i came from way back just like t-i-p told you asap but you n*gg*s rappin like aesop get a grip oh that’s your dream car? n*gg* that’s my old whip oh that’s your dream girl? n*gg* that’s my old b*tch oh that’s your new flow? n*gg* that’s my old sh*t! this that new krit sh*t, that cole sh*t, them country n*gg*s

[hook: cole] one for the money, two for the show three for them hoes saying anything goes they say they ready for whatever! they say they ready for whatever i been around the world, twice to be exact six bad b*tches and they lapped up in the back they say they ready for whatever! they say they ready for whatever!

[verse 2: big k.r.i.t.] shawty look what we got my b*ss beat and it knock got the old school in my old school bout to post up on yo block yo broad chose like she was supposed to and you up in arms cause she bopped i hate to say it but i got to say that i wish that they would just stop so f*ck these haters, f*ck these hoes that ain’t slammin doors on they drop y’all n*gg*s too young to remember how to the south used to be but i’m not so when it come to snappin’, cadillacs, spottieottiedopaliscious, y’all pop you thought krit wuz here and r4 were the sh*t, b*tch wait til my alb*m drop say that’s yo new car? n*gg* that’s my old slab say that’s yo new b*tch? n*gg* that’s my old stab oh that’s yo new flow? that sh*t sound so trash this that new krit sh*t, that cole sh*t, them country n*gg*s

[verse 3: kendrick lamar] hol’ up, but don’t forget about compton n*gg* one for the money, two for the show three for no limit and the rest for death row that means i been bout it bout it and this is the realist sh*t i ever wrote and if anyone ever doubt it then they are the loudest of liars i know i only desire to blow, she only desire to blow and i hope that my d*ck is a whistlely flute, and that’s not the instrumental now pick up my coat you let that motherf*cker drag like rupaul, i’ll drag your *ss to the floor b*tch, i can admit, i’m a recovered addict, paraphernalia that is telling the doctor i’m sick, head doctor i’m needing your lips, yea proper *n*logy for it, if i can afford it then i won’t ignore it, cop me a palace and porsche and right when i floor it that’s when i switch gears living my life on ur*n*s, uh, keeping one foot in your *n*s, uh the other foot all on your neck, repeatedly stomp ’til i break it, uh b*tch i’m demanding respect, these b*tches is telling me take it dj khaled, even if i had callus, holding the torch ain’t no challenge ain’t it